


the price of defeat

by angelcult



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Abuse, Adam is a right asshole in this, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Attempted Murder, Domestic Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Forced Marriage, Frottage, Gaslighting, Love/Hate, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, One-Sided Attraction, Past Suicide Attempt, Sexual Coercion, Touch-Starved, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:47:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29239308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelcult/pseuds/angelcult
Summary: A deal is a deal, that’s what Langa knows, but living with Adam —marryingAdam is a nightmare made real after he loses their race. With nothing and no-one to turn to, he finds himself at the bottom of the bottle and regretting every moment of it.
Relationships: Hasegawa Langa/Shindo Ainosuke | Adam
Comments: 8
Kudos: 192





	the price of defeat

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags! This ended up far longer than it was supposed to be, so without further ado, please enjoy!

Winning on high stakes is exhilarating, it’s overcoming uncertainty and sometimes, it’s getting a one-up on fate. That must be why losing when those stakes are just as high is such a far fall from grace.

The crowd is cheering around Langa, he knows they must be, but it’s all muted under the thundering sound of his heartbeat as he locks eyes with Adam.

He can’t see them from beneath the dark shadows of his mask but he can _feel_ them, like razors cutting into his skin.

He looks away as Reki sweeps into the room with Miya and Shadow hot on his trail, Cherry Blossom and Joe not far behind them. 

The redhead is on Adam in an instant, eyes blazing, yelling words rapidfire as Shadow yanks him back.

Miya is watching Langa though, his face full of anguished pity before he’s looking away.

It was no surprise they’d lost, _really,_ but the burn of defeat stung all the same.

* * *

The ring on his finger glinted in the heavy lights of Adam’s home, although he’d asked him to call him _Ainosuke_ instead, but Langa was stubborn and refused, tersely calling him by his surname should the need to speak to him arise. Though, calling him _Adam_ when he was alone was a way to keep distance between them mentally, as doing so physically felt nearly impossible. 

His cup of tea was cold where it sat on the kitchen island before him. His own reflection shined back at him, looking just as pathetic and weak as he felt.

Grabbing the cup suddenly and sharply, tea sloshing over the sides and onto his hands and the glittery white marble, Langa threw it at the wall, panting heavily as anger burned through him, bitter on his tongue and behind his teeth.

“Langa, are you alright?”

Looking over his shoulder, Langa could just barely hide the sneer on his lips, forcing himself to clear his expression.

“I’m fine.” He breathed after a minute or so passed, having fought to carefully reign his temper in, although he could still feel the anger and hatred he felt towards Adam flaring in his chest.

Adam’s eyes slid over to the wall that still had tea dripping down it, shattered glass everywhere.

“Mm.” It was all he said before stepping into the room, approaching Langa casually, stepping over a piece of broken glass before he stopped before him, looking down at the boy with inquisitive eyes.

“I’ll call a maid to clean the mess.”

“Good, good..” 

“Do you plan to stop breaking my things?” Adam asked, and Langa felt his hackles raise at how _amused_ he sounded, referring to the plate of food Langa had purposely broken on his first night in the manor.

“No.” Langa snapped sternly, and Adam just smiled and cooed softly, as if Langa was just a puppy baring dull milk teeth.

“I’m off to work.” Adam informed, as he was wont to do (and it wasn’t as if Langa could leave the oversized cage he lived in now, not when Adam was dangerous and the lives of those he cared for could be put in harm's way).

“Have a good day at work.” Langa bit out, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Adam’s mouth quickly, ignoring the pleased look on the man’s face before they were parting ways and Langa was rushing from the kitchen.

He stepped in glass, wincing with every step that sent it deeper into his foot, focused solely on finding Adam’s bedroom.

“I hate him.” Langa growled, storming into the room, tracking blood into the carpet, “I fucking hate him.”

Grabbing the first thing he saw, a small decorative plant, he threw it at the wall, sending glass and dirt everywhere. Snatching a letter opener off of the bedside table where a lamp rested (that he promptly knocked over), he stabbed it into the pillows and slashed open the downy feather covers.

Feathers flew everywhere, though it did nothing to staunch Langa’s anger as he spun and punched the wall, sending the letter opener slipping through his palm, slicing it open. 

“Fucking-! Ugh!” Langa screamed, dropping to his knees as he clutched his hand to his chest, curling in over himself.

Inhale sharply and breathing out slowly, Langa shakily held his trembling hand out. 

He still had all his fingers, but the wide cut that curved around his palm and stopped just centimeters too close to the prominent vein in his wrist made him queasy to look at as it gushed blood.

Searching around the floor, Langa snatched up a piece of torn fabric and painstakingly tied it around his hand, suddenly very tired as he stood up. Stumbling a few steps forward, he collapsed into the bed and he was asleep as soon as his head touched the ruined pillows.

“Langa? Langa!”

“Mm..” Langa moaned under his breath, pain setting in the moment he was even mildly conscious, forcing his eyes open and staring up at the worried red eyes that were staring down at him.

“You’re covered in blood..” Adam said softly, hand hovering over Langa’s stomach. 

“Uh, my..” Langa held his hand up. “My hand. I just cut my hand.. stupid fucking wall..” He closed his eyes before he was shaken awake again.

“Hold still.” Grasping Langa’s hurt hand, the older man went about untying the makeshift bandage softly shushing Langa when he winced. The fabric and blood had dried and melded together, sending a tender pain shooting through his entire arm as Adam slowly pulled it off.

“Oh, darling..” Adam sighed, shaking his head. “You’ll need stitches. Aren’t you lucky..” He leaned down over him, hand clenching around the wrist of Langa’s wounded hand, thumb pressing down into the cut.

“Ow! Ow, ow, let go-“ Tears burned in his eyes as he attempted to pull his hand away, though he was unsuccessful.

“I’ll fix you right up.”

“I’m sorry I fucked up your room, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, let me-“

“It’s not my room I care about, you silly boy, it’s _you,”_ He dug his thumb into the cut and Langa tossed his head back against the ruined pillows, tears burning hot trails down his cheeks. “Your foolish attitude got you _hurt,_ because you couldn’t keep your temper in check. I don’t want you hurt, Langa, and I don’t want to hurt _you_ but I have to show you the consequences of your actions, do you understand?”

Langa didn’t answer, head turned away as he sobbed, still shakingly trying to pull his hand away though it was fruitless.

“Langa.” Adam said again and the boy hesitated a moment before nodding slowly.

“I-I under.. I understand, I’m sorry.”

“Good boy, Langa.” Adam gently let go of his hand and used the tattered sheets to clean the blood off of his hand before standing.

“Come on, let’s get you all sewn up.”

Langa quietly climbed out of the bed behind Adam, keeping his hand that was now uncomfortably warm and throbbing pulled against his chest, a limp in his step from the glass. His eyes were low to the ground as he followed him into the en-suite bathroom, sitting on the lid of the toilet when he was directed to as he quietly watched Adam produce a small first aid kit from the cabinet, humming Chopin softly under his breath.

“I used to bandage myself up all the time when I first began skating.” Adam explained softly, before motioning to a deep scar on his wrist that was too straight-edged to be from a skating accident, and Langa was sure the observation showed on his face as Adam nodded at him.

“Save for this one, of course.” His eyes glinted sadly as he went about washing his hands and sterilising the needle, gingerly lacing the thread through alcohol before easing it through the eye of the needle with little finesse.

“How.. how’d you get it?” Langa asked, obediently giving Adam his hand when he kneeled before him.

“I was being stupid.” He said, soaking a cotton ball in alcohol before beginning to clean Langa’s wound and around his hand, holding the boy still even when he attempted to pull his hand away or he winced.

“My parents had just died, you see. I was only a few years younger than you are now.” He explained, holding Langa’s hand steady as he pressed the needle through, grip unwavering even when Langa attempted to yank away.

“Hold still, Langa, if I don’t do this as straight as I can, it’ll leave a nasty scar. Not to mention that glass in your foot as well.” Adam sighed, wiping blood away with a cotton ball when it welled up, his hand a steady one.

“It hurts.” He muttered and Adam sighed softly, shaking his head as he continued on with his steady rhythm, but Langa was forcing himself to stay as still as he could.

“I know, darling, I know.” After he was done with the painstaking task of sewing up Langa’s hand, he wrapped it in gauze and pressed a kiss to the center of it hand, careful. Langa could feel the warm heat from his mouth, sweeping across his hand before he pulled away and carefully sat Langa’s foot in his lap.

“It’s in deep,” Adam sighed, gently pressing his thumbs down on either side of the cut. Langa flinched hard, jerking his foot back.

“I know, I know,” Adam soothed quietly, grabbing a pair of tweezers he proceeded to disinfect before he was gripping Langa’s ankle tightly and lifting his foot up.

“On the count of three, okay?”

“Okay.”

“One,” Adam said, nodding to Langa to say the next number.

“T-AH-!” He cut himself off with a pained scream, clenching his teeth and dragging his foot back, and Adam let him go. Blood was lazily running down the bottom of his foot, dripping onto the floor and seeping into the fabric of Adam’s pants. He held up the tweezers to show a large piece of bloody glass to Langa before he carefully wrapped it in a piece of gauze, as it couldn’t tear through, and threw it in the bin.

“You don’t need stitches, but I imagine it stings, hm?” Adam asked, casual even as he grabbed Langa’s ankle to drag his foot back, cleaning his foot off with care before he was wrapping the gauze tightly and letting him go.

Langa gingerly sat his foot on the floor, shivers of pain still running through him as Adam sat in the _v_ of his legs, staring up at Langa with an odd glint in his eyes.

“It hurts?” Adam said softly, sliding his hands up the insides of Langa’s thighs.

“Yes.” Langa gritted out, tensing up and scooting back from Adam as he unzipped his pants, eyes travelling over the boy’s light grey boxers. Pressing a kiss to his stomach, Adam looked up at Langa through his dark eyes and the boy looked away.

If he closed his eyes, it wasn’t really happening. Between his own sighs and the deliciously disgusting vibrations from Adam’s moans, it was over as quickly as it started.

Wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand, Adam drew Langa into a kiss. He could taste himself in the older man’s mouth, if he closed his eyes, he was kissing someone else.

* * *

Langa’s injuries put him in a position that he wouldn’t have been in if he’d reigned in his temper. He needed help walking, and he’d injured his dominant hand which left him either using his non-dominant one or having to shakily eat and hope he didn’t spill anything all over himself. 

Adam was particularly doting, though he often grabbed Langa’s injured hand in warning, as a reminder. He would press his thumb down against the wound hidden beneath a thin layer of gauze, until it started to bleed again and Langa soon learned what to do and what not to do.

Adam hated it when he didn’t eat, or if he stayed up all night with only his thoughts. 

“I hate how your eyes look.” He had said, though he refused to explain _how_ Langa’s eyes looked, but he could imagine that they were dull, and without their typical expressiveness.

Now, as he laid in bed beside the man, he watched him as he slept. He was breathing peacefully, hair messy and spread over his pillow, relaxed. Perfectly content, even after Langa had managed to slip out of his arms, where he now lay instead of wrapped up in his hold. 

Slowly, Langa sat up and kept his eyes on Adam, hand sliding under his pillow. He had almost been disappointed at the speed in which the things in Adam’s room had been replaced, the room looking brand new as if blood and feathers hadn’t once left it in disarray.

The man slept on as Langa grabbed his pillow, hands shaking as he gripped it, nails digging in so hard that the tips of his fingers were going numb. Even as innocuous as he looked, he was a _monster._ He hurt and destroyed, and maybe he even killed. 

Langa was doing the world a favour. 

It was Adam’s fault for falling asleep beside him, Lang’s rationalised, next to someone who hates him. 

Climbing over Adam, Langa straddled his stomach, slowly lowering his weight down, thighs and calves shaking with how tense he was above the man. 

He sighed softly in his sleep, completely unaware of Langa’s actions.

Pressing the pillow down, Langa didn’t put any force behind it. Adam didn’t stir, and then Langa was pressing down harder, leaning down with his weight. 

At first, nothing, and then Adam was moving, hands coming up to push Langa off, and the boy just pressed his knees into Adam’s ribs, bearing his weight down.

With every struggle, Langa expected his resolve to break, but instead, it just strengthened. Eventually, Adam went limp and Langa held the pillow for a movement before he was pulling it up and tossing it aside.

Adam’s eyes were closed, lips parted and his cheeks were red. His chest wasn’t moving, and when Langa leaned down, close to his mouth, hair fanning out around his face, he couldn’t feel him breathing either.

Langa relaxed minutely, body aching from his prolonged tension and as soon as he did, arms were wrapped around his waist and they were rolling.

“No!” Langa screamed, lashing out and scratching at Adam’s face. His nails caught the man’s cheek before his wrists were pinned and he was forced to stare into Adam’s eyes.

They were full of anger, the kind that made anyone in opposition of it feel cold, but even with the shudders it sent up Langa’s spine, he continued to try and buck Adam off.

“Let me go!” He screamed, legs kicking out beneath Adam though they connected with nothing. Adam’s eyes roamed over his face, anger and agitation making them look dark and foreboding as he gripped Langa’s wrists harder.

“Be quiet, Langa.” He hissed out between his teeth, managing to _just barely_ keep his voice steady. He had three long and bloody scratches across his cheek that ended over the bridge of his nose.

“No, you’re supposed to-you’re supposed to be _dead!_ You-“

_“Shut the fuck up, Langa!”_

The boy fell into a startled, wide-eyed silence. He was breathing quickly, his heart was beating a tattoo into his chest as Adam stared down at him, the grip on his wrist flexing but not loosening.

“I can’t believe you tried to kill me.” Adam muttered, sounding strangely hurt by what Langa had done. “I-“ Adam cut himself off, looking down over Langa’s body before his eyes found his face again.

“I hate hurting you, but look at what you _make_ me do to you, Langa.” Adam growled, brows furrowing together angrily as he released Langa’s wrists, only to wrap his hands around the boy’s neck instead.

He started struggling again, as Adam had predicted, but he was smaller than the other man and acting on panic rather than logic. He scratched deeply at Adam’s hands and wrists, hips twisting and rocking up beneath him to unseat him. He was only tiring himself out, growing weaker and weaker until his hand fell limply to his sides.

Squeezing the boy’s neck harder, he reminded him of the deer than he and his father would hunt, or the fawns, rather. His neck was so fragile in his grip, his heart was like the fluttering of a bird’s, slowing down until Adam let him go.

Langa inhaled sharply, coughing as he turned his head away from Adam, the bruises already standing out so sharply against his skin that the man knew they’d be deeper by morning proper.

“I.. I fucking hate you.” Langa goaded once he’d caught his breath, looking back at Adam with watery eyes, and when he blinked, his tears ran down to his temples and into his hair.

“Well, I _love_ you,” Adam responded, leaning in close so that they were nose to nose. “I love you more than anything, _anything,_ but I won’t have you trying to kill me, or yourself, you’re _here_ because you are _mine._ ” 

“You better kill me yourself because I’m going to keep trying, I hate you, I _hate you, I hate y-_ “

He was cut off with a rough kiss, stealing his already fragile air, and he was pushing at Adam’s chest the moment their lips connected. When he tried to turn his head away, Adam gripped him by the jaw and held him steady, rough and needy kisses that left his lips feeling raw and swollen even when he didn’t kiss him back.

Adam rested his head against Langa’s chest, softly muttering under his breath for a moment before he sat up and stared down at the other boy. His eyes traced over his face and his mouth, before he grabbed Langa’s dominant hand.

“How about we make sure you never try that again.” He says blankly, and his eyes are scarier than when he was angrier. They look decided, and Langa can’t even get a word out before he’s hearing the belated crack of bone and a sharp pain is shooting through his wrist and down his arm.

He screams, pulling his hand to his chest as soon as Adam lets him go, and tears rolling down his face and his cheeks flushing a pained and angry red.

“I’ll call a doctor tomorrow.” Adam says as he crawls out of bed, leaving Langa to cry as he hears the man shuffle around the room before he’s coming back, holding two ties that have been tightly bound together. He’s rough as he ties an end around one of the spokes in the headboard, and the other around Langa’s broken wrist.

Langa flinches away, but he isn’t as kind as he’d been about his bedroom being destroyed, and ignores Langa even when he starts to hyperventilate from the pain and the fear.

“Go to sleep, Langa.”

Then Adam climbs into bed beside him and doesn’t even pull him into his arms and he was prone to do.

* * *

The next morning, Langa is untied from the bed and a doctor is called as promised. Adam is cold and distant, only touching Langa when necessary, but otherwise keeping his distance from him. Once, Langa would have delighted in it, in being _away_ from the man, but now? He couldn’t do much for himself with a broken dominant hand and nowhere to go.

The maids provided him with food, but he often ate alone, and was eventually, locked inside Adam's room. He remembered the day he found out what the man had done rather well, he’d been preparing to haunt the garden as he often did when Adam was at work, but the door was locked from the outside. 

At first, he had tried to pick it, but his non-dominant hand was weaker, and he found that he wasn’t able to get the grip necessary to do so with the hairpin that he’d found. After growing desperate, he remembers hitting at the door, kicking, screaming and eventually he had started to cry beside it, legs drawn up to his chest. Being confined inside of the room was hard to describe, when most of the time he was in pain from his wrist or his palm or his foot, all of which refused to properly heal under both stress and his failing self-care.

He remembered the day he refused a meal, glaring at his plate in both disgust and anger, and Adam had done nothing, merely waved for the maids to take the plate away, one of the rare occasions they ate together. They’d left the wine, however, which he’d drunk freely until his vision had blurred and tripled and he left the dining room before the other man. Stumbling alone, he found the room with only a little confusion before he promptly passed out on the bed.

He woke up all alone and with a hangover. 

* * *

“Those scratches, are there where I think they’re from?” 

Golden eyes narrowed on Adam when he didn’t smile in that grossly lovesick way he often did when Langa was brought up, and his eyes darkened.

“Is he even _alive?_ ” Cherry hissed quietly and Adam nodded, slowly.

“I wouldn’t kill him, Kaoru. No, but he.. He’s alive.”

It wasn’t as reassuring as it should have been. 

* * *

Weeks it went in like that. Langa would drink himself into a stupor and Adam would ignore it as much as he could. 

It started off as a normal night, Langa holding a glass of wine, his food had been barely touched. His wrist had healed but incorrectly after having hit it against the door and ended up needing it reset, it still tended to ache more often than not. 

His eyes were unfocused and hazy, he was drunk, and he took a sip of his wine before looking back at Adam strangely, his eyebrows creasing his forehead as they furrowed, a downward tick in the corner of his mouth.

“Adam,” He spoke suddenly, sitting his drink down. His voice was surprisingly steady, and Adam looked him in the eyes to let him know he was listening as he took a polite bite of his food.

“You hate me now, don’t you? That’s why you don’t.. you don’t sleep in our room anymore.”

“I do sleep in our room, but you’re passed out by the time I get there and when I leave.” Adam explained coolly, unsure how to address the other part of the statement. He was surprised that Langa was speaking to him, especially after how spectacularly pissed he’d been when the man considered weaning him off of the alcohol he was so fond of now.

“It’s ‘cos you lock me in that room like.. like I’m- like I’m a _dog_ or something.”

“You tried to kill me.”

“I’m sorry.” Langa said immediately after, eyes wide and honest, he was tilty in his seat as he took another shaky sip from his cup before pausing and draining it dry. 

“You scare me.. _scared_ me, now I just miss you.” His words were starting to slur, but not unintelligibly.

“You miss me?”

“Yeah.” Langa’s voice was soft and childish, and he nodded after, just to make sure that he had confirmed it with Adam. He picked up his glass and looked briefly confused at its being empty, frowning as he tilted it from one side to the other before sitting it down on the table and looking back at Adam. 

“You’re so mean to me now. I’m sorry I tried to kill you.” 

And then he promptly proceeded to throw up all the wine he’d drunk. 

* * *

Langa was regretting not being a blackout drunk but rather an honest one. He woke up in a change of clothes, smelling sweetly like Adam’s body wash, wrapped up in the man’s arms.

In fact, he hated how he relaxed into his grip and turned so that he was facing him, not looking at the man’s face as he pressed his own into Adam’s chest. He smelled the same but _different_ somehow, after nearly two months of Langa’s only human contact limited to wrapping his arms around himself. 

Adam’s grip tightened around him and he heard him yawn above his head and then Adam was burying his nose into Langa’s hair and sighing softly. He sounded relieved, and Langa hated that he felt it too.

“Good morning, darling.” 

After strictly only being referred to as his name, Langa was surprised to hear the endearment.

“Good morning.”

Adam pressed a kiss to the top of his head before he was climbing out of bed, soothing his fingers through Langa’s hair carefully, and then he was walking away to the bathroom, leaving his husband in bed to think.

* * *

It wasn’t quite peace but it was more than the tolerance it had been before. Langa still found himself sick at the thought of touching Adam romantically, kissing him made a bitter taste fill his mouth, and he still drank to ease the pain that remained, both physical and not, but it was still better than tolerance.

Langa enjoyed being drunk, it softened the edges of the world around him, it made it easier to speak but harder to lie. Adam had begun helping him to bed instead of letting him stumble his way to their bedroom and hoping he didn’t fall down the stairs and break his neck in the process.

It was preferable, the assistance, especially when the maids all gave him looks of pity as they helped him. He didn’t want their pity, but he knew why he was given it. 

Tonight, it was Adam helping, as it had been for the past week. Langa had regrettably spilled his drink on his lap and started crying because he’d _“ruined what Adam bought me”_ much to his embarrassment. Now, Adam was shushing him, telling him that it was okay and that he would help him.

“I know you didn’t mean to, you just drank too much tonight, is that it?”

“I think so.. I drank a lot, ‘m gonna be sick in the.. in the morning, I’m..” He trailed off into something incoherent but Adam nodded along anyway. His hand was on the small of Langa’s back, and sometimes it slid down towards his thighs but Langa always moved it back up.

After making it to their room, Langa stood before Adam so that he could help him undress, feeling as if he were rocking back and forth. After taking off his shirt and dropping it to the floor, Adam rested his hand on the flat of Langa’s stomach. His ribs were more pronounced than they’d ever been but the man didn’t seem to mind as he slid his hand up Langa’s chest.

“Adam?” 

“Yes, darling?”

“What uhm.. what are you doing?” Langa slurred, taking a small step back but Adam easily coaxed him close again, popping the button on his pants, which were soaked through and ruined from the red wine.

“I’m helping you undress. Careful, hold onto my shoulders..” Langa stumbled as he lifted his legs, feeling disproportionately out of control of his limbs, but they managed it with a wobbly success. His boxers followed next, and when those too were gone, Adam was sliding down to his knees in front of the boy.

“Langa.. I’ve missed you so much.” He rested his cheek against the boy’s stomach, looking up at him with dark, dark eyes, reverence glinting in them.

“Adam, what are you doing?” 

“Taking care of you.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to his stomach before kissing down his wine slicked thighs, pressing another kiss to his groin above his cock, which was still soft, though Adam paid that no mind as he rose to his feet, towering over the boy. 

His mouth pressed against Langa’s neck, kissing him chastely before he bit down, sharp teeth sinking into Langa’s neck.

“Ow! Ah, Adam-“ Langa pushed weakly at his chest, his lowered inhibitions making it easy for the man to push his hands away. Grabbing Langa by the hips, he kissed up his neck and over his jawline to his mouth.

Langa tasted like his favourite red wine, _Château Montelena Estate Cabernet Sauvignon,_ which was cheap as far as Adam was concerned, only costing 175 dollars in total, but Langa had taken a shine to it.

He could understand why, as he was kissing him, deep and hungry, could taste it with every swipe of his tongue or press of their lips.

It was delicious, it sweetened his boy, made him pliable as he began to sloppily kiss back before breaking it, hands pushing at Adam’s chest again.

“No, I don’t.. I don’t want to-“

“You don’t?”

“No.” Langa shook his head a little, his hair had gained some of its bounce and shine back.

“Are you sure?” Adam asked as he kissed his neck again, leading him back towards the bed. Langa stumbled a little before the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress and they were falling into it. Langa’s hair spread out, wispy and fae-like even with his unfocused eyes and his pouty frown.

“I’m.. I’m sure, I don’t-“

“You’re drunk, love,” Adam started as he sat up, unbuttoning his shirt while he spoke. “And you’re a little confused but I know what you want. I always know what’s best for you, don’t I?”

Langa looked confused, unable to properly follow the conversation word for word as he still squirmed beneath him. 

Standing up, the rest of Adam's clothes followed before he was back upon the boy, pulling him into kisses that he slowly started to give in to.

“You taste so sweet.” Adam breathed as he slowly started to grind down against Langa, smiling to himself when the boy’s squirms paused and his hands shakily slid into Adam’s hair.

“You want it, see?”

“I..”

“Ahh.. You’re hard, look..” Adam lifted up a little and Langa spared a glance down between them, eyes widening slightly. He _was_ hard and now that he was focusing on it, he ached a bit and looked away, cheeks turning red.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed.” Adam said with a chuckle, leaning down to kiss his cheeks on either side before lowering his hips. He held a hand on Langa’s hip while the other touched his face, watching his husband moan and twist beneath him every time their cocks ground together. 

His moans were soft and his pleasure was that of a virgin, he twisted and arched his back in a way that _screamed_ he’d never experienced being touched by another person in such a way.

Adam moaned softly, pressing kisses to his chest and cheek before pulling away, smiling to himself when he heard his drawn out moan. 

“Adam, what are-“

“I just need to get something, I’ll be right back.” He assured, allowing his eyes to trail over the boy. His cheeks were red and his eyes were shiny, the haziness of them having barely diminished. He couldn’t hold his liquor well, which is why Adam found himself keeping harder drinks under lock and key so that he wouldn’t find them.

His flush spread down his chest, and even his cock was a pretty shade of pink, the head just _barely_ peeking out of the foreskin, red and glistening with precome.

His husband’s beauty was unparalleled by anyone he’d ever laid eyes on.

Grabbing the bottle of lube from the drawer, coming back to his husband.

“Slide up the bed a little, Langa.” He ordered softly and the boy did so, squirming up and settling in the relative middle of the bed as Adam sat in front of him, pushing his legs up and opening them, the boy pliant as he arranged him. 

“Have you ever done this before?” Adam asked softly, popping the cap on the bottle as he stared between his legs, eyes roaming over him. He could see _everything_ like this, and he was once again stunned by his beauty.

“No, ‘m a virgin.. Feels good though, when you touch me.” His words were still slurred, and Adam wondered absently if he should try to get him to stop drinking again. Though, the pliant body before him left room for argument.

“I’m glad, I love to make you feel good. I hate having to hurt you, but you know why I do it, don’t you?”

“Cos I don’t.. I make you angry.”

“No, no, sweetie, it’s because you make me _sad._ ”

“Oh..” Langa’s eyes were so honest, they were shiny and hazy and open, all blue and innocent. “I’m sorry.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” 

Both of their cocks had started to flag with their conversation, and so Adam drizzled the lube over three of his fingers, watching Langa’s face as he traced one around his hole. He shuddered from the cool temperature, drawing his legs in before Adam eased them back open, sighing softly as he pushed a finger inside.

Langa was _hot_ inside, whether that was normal temperature or an effect of the alcohol were unknown to Adam, and he found that he didn’t care. His inebriated state left him easier to work open, and one finger quickly became two.

The boy’s eyes pressed closed, his pale eyelashes fanning out against his cheeks, breathing a little faster with every twist and thrust of Adam’s fingers. One particular thrust made Langa’s eyes snap open, and his back arched, toes curling. His moans were open, fucking his hips down against Adam’s hands, cock twitching against his stomach.

A third finger was a bit of a stretch, but Langa slowed his undulating hips to allow it, wincing and whimpering softly even as Adam softly shushed him.

“I know, sweet thing, just a little more.”

Focusing on stretching rather than pleasuring, Adam eventually pulls his fingers out of the boy. Slicking himself with lube, he shuddered at it, looking down at Langa who was watching him with wide and curious eyes. 

Smiling, Adam stroked himself slowly, watching the flush on Langa’s cheeks deepen before he pulled his hand away and wiped it dry on the sheets that he knew would need replacing soon anyhow.

Shuffling up to the other on his knees, Adam lightly grips Langa’s hips and lifts them, hands sliding down against his ass before spreading him open, moaning softly at the sight of his hole that was a blushing red from being stretched. Nudging the head against it, Adam slowly pushed in, sighing softly when Langa relaxed enough for the head to pop through before the rest followed. Langa whimpered softly, the pain seeping through the mild numbness given by the alcohol. 

“Shh, it’s okay..” His words were spoken soothingly as he pushed in to the hilt, stopping and holding still even though he would have been _more_ than delighted to fuck Langa through the pain. Instead, he soothed his hand up Langa’s side, worryingly eyeing his ribs before he slid it back down over his stomach and over his groin. He repeated it until Langa shuffled his hips down. The haze in his eyes was clearing some, and he almost looked confused for a moment before his eyes met Adam’s again and he relaxed a fraction.

“You can keep going.” He whispered, and Adam leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to his mouth as he began rocking his hips up into him, pulling Langa’s down with every thrust. The boy was quiet, only whimpering on occasion. 

Well, _that_ wouldn’t do.

Readjusting how he was positioned, angling his thrust down, he started up a faster rhythm, smiling to himself when Langa yelped and his hand flew up to his mouth, trying to muffle himself before they fell to his sides and he squeezed his eyes closed.

“There?” Adam asked, breathing a little faster and heavier with exertion. Langa nodded quickly, reaching up to pull Adam closer. His cock was leaking between their stomachs, rubbing against them with every thrust. Langa was loud, he was sure that they could be heard if anyone was close enough and it only made him redouble his efforts.

The boy’s voice went up an octave, only a few words made it through, and they mostly consisted of Adam’s name, his _real_ name, cries of “Ainosuke!” and “more, more” became Langa’s verbal mantra, his nails digging into Adam’s back.

“I’m gonna- I can’t-“ Langa stuttered, head tossed back, the line of his neck drawing Adam in to lightly suck and bite, possessively marking him.

Just like when he’d choked him, even though he _hated_ having to have done it, he enjoyed the bruise it’d left. A deep ring in the shape of his hands that was so dark a shade of purple that it was nearly black.

He was forced from his thoughts by a scream louder than the others, and the warmth of Langa cumming between their stomachs and up their chests, pleading that it was too much now, that he wanted to stop.

“ _Soon,_ soon, let me finish, Langa, I have to finish inside of you.” Adam told him quietly, gripping Langa’s hips and lifting them, making him cry out with the force and depth of it until he was cumming, biting down hard into the crook of Langa’s neck as he tried to push deeper despite knowing that he was as far inside of his husband as he’d go.

He could taste blood on his tongue and eventually he slowed to a stop, panting softly as he pulled out. Sitting back on his knees, he gently knocked Langa’s quivering legs open to watch his cum run out of him. It seeped down into the covers, and every now and again a muscle in Langa’s stomach or thigh would jump.

“I’ll be back, darling.” Langa nodded absently as he heard, knees falling closed and his eyes closed. After returning with a wet towel, Adam wasn’t surprised to find the boy asleep. 

He was gentle as he wiped him clean, pleased to find his body littered with bites and hickeys, light bruises on his hips and the bite on his neck that would last a while.

After they were as clean as they’d get without a proper shower, Adam tossed the rag aside to be cleaned up with their clothes in the morning before he was laying down and pulling Langa into his arms.

* * *

The hangover had become normal when waking up, as well as the taste of soured wine in his mouth and, regrettably, Adam’s arms around him.

What was _not_ normal was the fact that they both were naked, that he could feel Adam against him, hard, though thankfully still asleep. What _wasn’t_ normal was the smell of sex in the room and the ache in his body.

_Did I..?_

Snatches of memory flooded him, sluggishly as he closed his eyes and forced himself to focus on them.

He remembered drinking and spilling his drink, he remembered crying and then there’s a blankness between that and getting to the room. He can just vaguely pinpoint the different times he’d said he didn’t want to, or that he wanted to stop, but Adam, he’d—

Langa scrambled out of bed, uncaring that he was waking Adam up as he made it to the bathroom, falling to his knees and vomiting into the toilet. It was all wine and stomach acid, there was some regret too, but mostly something that was bitterly just denial.

He heard Adam getting out of bed, following after him, and then he was throwing up again.

Adam sat beside him, saying nothing, just slowly rubbing a hand up and down Langa’s back while he held his hair. 

It became dry heaving and then, as he wiped his mouth with the towel that Adam handed him after he pushed away from the toilet, it became tears. Adam watched him wearily and he closed the lid and then flushed.

“Langa-?” He reached out to touch him and Langa slapped his hand away, glaring at him through his messy hair, eyes red.

“Don’t _touch_ me! Get away from me!”

Adam jumped a little, and surprisingly, nodded before standing and leaving the room. After he left, Langa stumbled to his feet, turning the sink on as he dipped his head down and sipped water from the faucet. He swished it out around his mouth, spitting out into the sink before doing it again until the taste of vomit was gone. 

Turning the water off, he looked up to find Adam dressed in a pair of pants while a complete set of clothes was handed to him.

“Are you-“

“I’m fine.” Langa snapped, hackles raising, “I’m fine. Get out.”

Adam’s brow furrowed and he tilted his head in a way that was similar to that of a confused puppy. 

“You were okay last night, what happened?”

“I was _drunk_ last night.” Langa growled, clenching the clothes in his hands. Adam, at the very least, was decent enough to look him in the eye as they spoke.

“I don’t understand.” He stated blankly and Langa could have screamed, choosing instead to throw a shirt at Adam who easily caught it, furthering his anger, frustration and _fear._

“You raped me!”

Adam shook his head, a dark look flashing in his eyes before it passed.

“Of course not,” and then Adam smiled, a soft and deceptive thing. 

“You wanted it, remember?”

“I didn’t want it, you _asshole,_ I wanted to go to bed, I wanted-“ Langa cut himself off, breathing too quickly to speak and only then did Adam approach him and pull him into his arms. His breathing got faster, but Adam gently shushed him, holding him tighter when he tried to pull away.

“You can’t remember very well, can you? I shouldn’t let you drink so much, sweetie, I know.”

“I remember,” Langa whispered but Adam just shook his head, slowly swaying them side to side.

“You’re just confused, you aren’t feeling well. How about I take today off and take care of you.”

“I _remember,_ Adam, stop treating me like-like-“

“I know, baby, I know you remember _some_ of last night. You got really drunk, and clingy, and you had just been crying. I undressed you and I wanted more and you did too. Don’t you remember that?”

Langa had gone limp in Adam’s arms, staring at a distant spot on the wall, feeling all fuzzy and staticy in his head.

“I don’t.. you told me-“

“I told you that you were confused, didn’t I?”

Langa did remember that part, being told that he was confused, but that was _after_ he told Adam he wanted to stop, wasn’t it? Or was it when he’d said that he just didn’t want to?

“I told you to stop, you didn’t stop-“

“Langa, look at me.”

Langa turned his gaze towards Adam’s, expecting to find something threatening and angry, but instead his eyes were sad and a little overwhelmed.

“You told me to stop undressing you,” The man lied. “But I had to, because you got wine all over yourself and it soaked through your clothes. I kissed you right here,” He lightly tapped his neck. “And you didn’t want to stop.”

Langa blinked slowly, but he came up short. There was no memory, hazy or not, of Adam having done such a thing. He remembered him kissing his neck, but he was already unclothed by the time he told him to stop, he _knew_ that but- did he?

He _had_ been drinking, and he always drank too much, but he surely wouldn’t have.. would he?

Langa bit his lip as he started to cry again, and Adam’s eyes went wide.

“I’m confused, I can’t-“

“Shhh.. let’s not think about that right now, how about you get dressed, you can dress yourself, and I just stay home today, okay? We can spend some time in the garden, I think some fresh air will be good for you.”

Langa nodded absentmindedly, eyes hazy as Adam wiped his tears again and pressed a kiss to his forehead before leaving the bathroom, having placed the shirt Langa had thrown at him on the counter, and closed the door behind himself.

Slowly, the boy got dressed. The light hurt his eyes and worsened his headache, but when he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t shake the wrongness he felt, the unsure placement of memories.

He’d said no, hadn’t he?

_Hadn’t he?_

After he finished getting dressed and brushing his teeth, Langa left the room.

“Adam.”

The man looked up from a letter, searching Langa’s face with his eyes before speaking.

“Yes, Langa? Are you alright?”

“I.. I’m sorry I said you raped me.. I just.. I can’t remember-“

Quickly setting the letter aside, Adam was pulling Langa into his arms again, shushing him as he soothed a hand up and down his back.

“It’s okay, all’s forgiven, I know you were just panicking.. it was a confusing night for you, but it’s okay, today will be better. We’ll work on not drinking so much, okay? So this doesn’t happen again.”

“Okay.” He tilted his head back so Adam could chastely kiss him on the mouth before he was laying his head against Adam’s sternum.

Though some part of Langa, the uncertain part, had a feeling that it would.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you for reading!


End file.
